it so happened that a secretary of raikom
set out in the summer of ‘32 in his official car to the Karaganda region

To go to Lvov. Which station
for Lvov, if not in a dream, at dawn, when dew

Out of the corpse-warm foyer of heaven steps thesun.
There it is not the immortals,
but rather the fallen, we perceive.

Midnight. Just wrote a poem. I walked outdoors.
Misty. Cloudy. A grey sky, shrunken, starless
All around, a low, sinking mist
A feeling that everything is disappearing

Mary, in her twilight years
was fetching water
at the dim stone well

Sleeping
under a tree
an apple fell on my head

Man creates meaning through language.

In August, the mad sun is burning furiously
in the firmament

WHEN Miss Emily Grierson died, our whole town went to her funeral: the men through a sort of respectful affection for a fallen monument,..

Into your virtual city I’ll have passed
Unregistered by scans, screens, hidden eyes,
Lapping myself in time, an absorbed face

Emily Dickinson’s reverence for life led her to revere the world in which life unfolded.

There's a certain Slant of light,
Winter Afternoons --

My wife with the hair of a wood fire
With the thoughts of heat lightning

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree:
Where Alph, the sacrecl river, ran

Something must be done right away
that much we know

It was October12, 1982
my birthday

Complacencies of the peignoir, and late

I sit in a mood of reverie.
I've brought to Art desires and sensations：

A few days after completing his reading of Wrong Paths Celan turned to a 1947 edition of the thinker’s Letter on Humanism and, according to dates he entered in the text, read it on August 21 and 23, 1953.

Driven into the
terrain
with the unmistakable track:

​“Unreality is the only weapon with which reality can be smashed, so that it may subsequently be reconstructed.”

Spill into the lake
but a drop of wine
and the sun vanishes.

There used to be a shooting range in the district center of Barysh.

There is a moment before a shape
hardens, a color sets.

John Donne has sunk in sleep...All things beside
are sleeping too: walls, bed, and floor-all sleep.